2024-08-20

homepage.content

@@ -1050,6 +1050,395 @@ pre { /* DRY who? */
 }
 
 
+/blah/2024-08-20.html
+
+: story p1
+
+One summer evening about a year ago, I was sitting next to Tracy watching
+television when there came a terribly loud series of knocks on our door. I got
+up to go find out who it was when Tracy silently raised a hand, reminding me I
+couldn't answer. She walked over to the door and was about to undo the lock
+when the knocks turned to thuds.
+
+I ran, as silently as I could, to the door and grabbed the aluminium baseball
+bat from the small coat closet across the narrow hall. I positioned myself to
+the right of the door, the opposite side from the hinges, and readied the bat
+before nodding at Tracy. She shook her head. Still - thud! Thud! Thud! She
+squinted through the peephole and looked back at me and shrugged. She raised
+her fingertips to the deadlock.
+
+"Ah!" she let out a yelp as her fingers contacted the wooden door. I didn't
+understand why at first but as she withdrew her hand from the door I noticed
+the residue, or film, or syrup, or some sort of non-Newtonian fluid that was
+following her index finger, like a string of melted cheese following a piece of
+pizza. "It's melting."
+
+"The door?" I asked before I realized. The door had a matte, waxy texture to
+it - a texture I hadn't really seen since dropping acid. The deadlock and
+doorknob both began - subtly, or perhaps it was my imagination - to fall down
+the fluid and the top of the doorway started falling backwards, outwards.
+Little red drops, colored by the paint, presumably, crawled towards us along
+the surface like drops of water on a shower wall. "How is that possible?"
+
+The thuds stopped. Tracy and I looked at each other. Tracy looked uneasy. Then
+her eyes widened and as I turned around, swinging my bat with me, I watched
+pitch black fingers gripping the door from the top peel it from the wall, then
+blend into the inky darkness that had replaced our usual lit porch. The bat
+slipped from my grip and was flung into the darkness, landing about 10 meters
+away at the same height of our apartment floor despite our living on the fourth
+story of this building.
+
+"I'm calling the police. Something's wrong. Something's really wrong."
+
+Tracy started toward the phone but I grabbed her sleeve. "Please. We can figure
+this out."
+
+She looked into my eyes and held her gaze there before slightly smiling. A
+quiet: "Okay."
+
+I went over to the kitchen window. I could still see the bright, yellow night
+sky polluted by the thousands of streetlights below. I opened the window and
+took the screen out. Tracy waited behind me, watching the doorway. I crawled
+out onto the porch and helped her make her way with me. All seemed normal. We
+crept to the front door of the apartment. I turned the corner to the entrance
+but nearly ran into a man, dressed in a suit and tie, sitting on a folding
+chair outside our intact, red door. I could feel the blood leave my face.
+
+Behind me, Tracy gasped as she found us. The man stood and looked me in the
+eyes. His irises were gray.
+
+
+/blah/2024-08-14.html
+
+My blah has made my life worse. That's why I publish rare, clumped updates - I
+don't know if I still want people reading it. But I don't have a diary and my
+stuff outside git forges doesn't last, never lasts. Hard drives rust, SD cards
+shatter, eMMC chips fry. but there is redundancy on the Internet. And I want to
+remember what I've written. And I think some of it is worthy of others' diets.
+
+while it lasted
+the words warmed my heart
+and gave me something
+i didn't know i had
+while it lasted
+your bed comforted me
+i had never slept so well
+and i never did again
+while it lasted
+i saw a sky i'd never seen
+breathed air i'd never breathed
+heard songs that fascinated me
+while it lasted
+it meant everything to me
+in a hard year
+it was something soft
+when at last
+it meant to leave
+for a hard break
+its resolution was too soft
+and a while later, i forgave it
+
+how did trent reznor feel
+when johnny cash took
+his song Hurt
+and put more hurt
+the hurt only age could give
+and put it into the song
+performing it,
+in even reznor's opinion,
+better than reznor
+i would have burned
+red hot rage, and jealousy
+for every poem is a lover
+and the strummed chords
+a tighter matrimony
+than any could be given by a priest
+a song married to one
+that one married to a dozen others
+each one means the most
+to take it
+sacriledge.
+trent reznor is cooler than i am
+johnny cash was cooler
+than i'll ever be
+i understand why Not,
+and of course Not,
+and obviously Not,
+but if i was reznor
+i would have killed that motherfucker
+
+
+/blah/2024-08-13.html
+
+There oughtta be more trash bins around on the street. I eat my 50 cent Cow
+Tail (not the type of Cow Tail that the CIA paid DPRKoreans to cut off their
+cows to cause them to be unable to stand up, thereby compromising their food
+supply chain, but the Cow Tail that they sell at cheap corner stores - by that
+I mean expensive corner stores that sell stuff for a penny that sells at the
+Kroger a dozen for a nickel - with the cream filling and the caramel that looks
+so good and tastes so bad and gets lodged in your head as looking bad but
+tasting good) oh, you forgot what I was talking about because of the long
+fucking parenthetical? Good luck with Baudrillard. And I seek to throw it away
+and I can never find a place to throw my fucking wrapper. Tonight I held mine
+for the fifteen minutes' walk home. O me miseram et cetera sed fuck you I could
+have (and should have) littered my little white piece of cellophane out on the
+street. You never see garbage out on the street next to garbage bins - it's
+almost too much work to throw it next to a bin than into a bin. It peers at you
+from the puddle it landed in when you walk by. Wanna "solve" your homeless
+problem? "Solve" as in sweep all the unfortunate souls off to some outskirt of
+your city so you don't have to look at them on the way to your six figure job
+at some corporate firm conspiring with landlords to raise rent prices. Nobody's
+gonna wanna sleep on the street next to a garbage can. One every two meters -
+bam, fuck the homeless, clean up the streets, yeah yeah cool thanks Bezosito.
+
+George Carlin playing on the television. Myself playing with my little
+keyboard. Now they've put on Voyager.
+
+What's my religion? I saw a bunch of deer outside walking last night. Nearly
+ran into them. I thought they were statues at first; still, silent, elegantly
+grazing silhouettes standing in the grass lit by the occasional passing car.
+"Hello?" One lifted its head. "Hey." I gave a wide berth as I walked past them
+for worry that they had some sort of wasting disease but then I realized one
+said hello to me and they were simply some animals doing animal things. For a
+good while my Prime Directive was to serve Gaia; to give back to the world,
+make it better than it was before my coming. This was, to me, the most logical
+goal, or at least one that would serve me decently for the entirety of my life.
+There's only so much matter on this planet and, for now, no practical way to
+transport more water or carbon or anything else over. Why pollute it? Gaia has
+finite capacity for hosting human life - though we aren't close to reaching it.
+Why lower that capacity, and make everyone's life worse? Before learning about
+the Dharma I still had some sense of Kharma, though my sense was more of a
+feeling - treat people poorly, and everyone will be poorer for it. Treat people
+as best possible, and everyone will be better for it. Serve Gaia; make the
+world a better place. "Gaia" is what the Buddhists call Kharma; the health of
+our planet, spiritually, physically. I gave the deer berth and let them go on
+about their evening. And they didn't bother me either.
+
+i wanna take someone
+tie them to a post
+in my basement
+in a position
+where they can only stand up
+so they slowly get
+more and more fatigued
+break them mentally
+then cut them loose
+and watch them
+stick
+around
+without external relationships
+without ambitious desire
+without resistance
+without worries
+without hope
+i wanna take someone
+i want to keep them
+alone
+but really i am
+alone
+-
+that being said,
+
+
+/blah/2024-08-11.html
+
+It's been two years since I updated my Thinkpad X200 Tablet page, probably
+because it's been about a year and a half since I started using Raspberry Pis
+as my daily drivers.
+
+Four years since I coined "catfella". Someday it might catch on.
+
+my wifi antenna doesn't work
+i have connection problems
+i say hey how are you doing to strangers
+no reply
+
+: cigarette
+
+i flick my lighter
+i flick my lighter
+i flick my lighter
+i hold the cancer stick in my mouth
+and cup my hand around the business end
+i flick my lighter
+inhale
+i hope the entire end is burning
+so it doesn't canoe
+it doesn't canoe
+inhale
+open my mouth a little more to draw oxygen too
+deep into my lungs
+my ears start ringing
+i can feel my blood pressure spike
+head swims
+i see stars, i'm so light-headed
+inhale
+from the pleasure end
+i feel so calm
+my body is anything but calm
+my head hurts
+a dull ache
+inhale
+i check the news, can't read it, put it down
+look at the clouds
+look at the other clouds
+stub now
+the cherry's in the filter
+i put it out on the bottom of my boot
+i smell like it
+and everybody with an olfactory nerve knows
+i'm cheered up as i go back inside
+i feel like shit
+
+: radio silence
+
+i called
+you didn't answer
+i threw myself at the walls
+of my cat carrier
+i got cuffed in steel
+and they were tied to the floor
+and i didn't really feel
+l'amor
+i called
+you didn't answer
+i heard you were doing fine
+i dug into my skin with an x-acto knife
+looking for what changed
+i dug into the chat logs
+looking for what changed
+i heard you were doing fine
+i called
+you didn't answer
+my friends figured i did something horrible
+i figured i did something horrible
+and i started grasping at straws
+i cut my hair
+i smoked more heavily
+i stopped looking both ways
+i called
+you didn't answer
+i called a friend and asked for advice
+they said nothing could justify that kind of silence
+except- maybe- had i done something horrible
+i didn't know
+i called them again
+they didn't answer
+i called
+you didn't answer
+and because you didn't answer
+i didn't have anyone to call
+when i was alone at 2 am
+holding an x-acto knife to my wrist and thinking
+but i thought
+i had to know so
+i called
+you didn't answer
+i sent yet another text message
+i posted on my blog
+i laid awake at night again
+i went in early to work again
+i left late again
+i did everything but kill myself
+i called
+you answered
+i was overjoyed to hear your voice
+after all that time
+i had decided maybe i could move past the silence
+after all that time
+maybe you had been really busy
+during all that time
+when i called
+when you answered
+you said it was over
+and i had mourned it already
+had already cried my tears
+had but a spark where once a fire burned
+in the catacomb cage in my chest
+and i said hallelujah
+
+: equilibrium
+
+take my box cutter and
+take my arm and
+box cutter
+and move down to my wrist
+and go with the flow
+cover yourself in it
+under me in the bathtub
+cold like me
+but soon i'll be colder
+hot blood works faster than a blanket
+to warm your skin
+with the heat of my heart
+pumping out my coolant
+into the thin air
+i'm still breathing
+so do my neck
+kiss it
+with the blade
+before plunging it
+in a carotid
+and pulling it out quickly
+like you hesitated
+but you didn't
+so i get pulled out too
+and end up
+all over you
+i would give myself
+all of myself
+every drop of myself
+til i was pale faced and dry
+and the hair drew from my tightened skin
+and i had triangles in my eyes
+if
+you would just
+hold my head in your hands
+look into my wet eyes
+still blinking
+saccading
+focusing
+pupils dilating
+bloodshot
+and just
+say
+it's going to be okay
+
+: old playlists
+
+i want tender love, a Miracle Musical
+but i get loveless love, Mindless Self Indulgence
+i've wanted something sweet like Guster
+but the best i've gotten is short; My Chemical Romance
+and then returned to a spectre, haunted - call me Laura Les
+i watch the shadows on the streets, a non-passing Susanne Vega
+from a diner on the corner blue like Sinatra
+and the devil's beating his wife til she dies and then a Creedence Clearwater
+	Revival
+and i listen to my old playlists and Childish Gambino
+fuck this is corny
+
+: said who
+
+come downstairs and say hello
+  how are you doing
+                    say something
+  your answer is?..
+                    say please
+     you're welcome
+          you don't say
+               then say so
+    that's what she said
+                    say uncle
+please rise for the pledge of allegiance
+                 be quiet
+it's not your turn
+      why would you say that
+              don't swear
+                    apologize. now
+          you could say that again
+
+
 /blah/2024-08-09.html
 
 Last night I got pretty drunk and then smoked a joint and got very high,